


To Be the Nephew of A Villain - Uncle Albert Wesker AU

by LuminousScorch



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Albert Wesker - Freeform, Albert Wesker AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Game: Resident Evil 1 Remake (2002), Game: Resident Evil 2, Game: Resident Evil 3 Remake (2020), God I have no idea why i wrote this so badly please just read, Post-Game: Resident Evil 0, Post-Resident Evil 4, Post-Resident Evil 5, Revenge, Villains, this is a hyperfixation please maam please
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:55:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28114989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuminousScorch/pseuds/LuminousScorch
Summary: Imagine if another Wesker child survived other than Albert. A child that showed no symptoms of the tests they did. That child grew into an adult and had a kid. Albert dotted on this child as if it was his own, although the child's mother hates him and all that he stands for, but she allows it. This is just a story about vengeance so enjoy.(THIS IS LIKE BARELY CANON IM STILL DOING FULL RESEARCH ON LORE BUT I LEAVE FOR AN ACADEMY IN A MONTH AND I LITERALLY DONT HAVE TIME LMFAO)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter One

Uncle Albert would always tell the best stories about his grand adventures that you guessed most of was half-told by the looks your mother would give him halfway through, you’d only see him three times a year. Once during Christmas, another time during thanksgiving, and lastly your birthday where he would give you something dumb like a bag of marbles because he has no idea what to give a child. However, you enjoy everything he gives you, always taking good care of it and even boating about it at school, no matter how many of your friends didn’t care. He was like the drunk uncle that only came to family functions to drink and tell stories of his youth, however he was only in his thirties.

Your mother had no idea why you drifted towards him more than her, your parent. She didn’t like Uncle Wesker and always used a sour or flat tone when she talked with him or about him, the talks were never anything nice and you wondered what happened to make her resent him so much. Albert never seemed to notice and if he did, he had never mentioned it to you or anybody else that you knew.   
You called him when you were upset and Albert had dropped everything to listen to you rant about every unfairness in the world, although he may not have understood all of it completely or at all. All he cared about is that you felt better. However, he had no idea how to care for a child, so most of his advice meant nothing at all; he loved you enough to try though, which is what counts. Albert, unfortunately, was raised in a lab with hundreds of other children for the W-Project. Your mother, [NOT SET], was also a test subject of the W-Project but was a failure. She had gone through all of the symptoms but never showed superhuman traits. So eventually she was let go, found your father, he was deployed in Raccoon City for the summer, they were married quickly and had you. He died in combat when you were a child, you didn’t remember him much, just the glimmer of his eyes. Albert wasn’t that lucky, he showed perfect superhuman abilities. Him and your uncle Alex worked at Umbrella corp. until he had passed away as well.

You knew none of the superhuman abilities or the W-Project. Your mother never told you out of fear and trauma she had experienced and she wanted to keep you away from all that. She had told your uncle Albert in private to never speak of his abilities either or he would end up having zero contact with her child. He was angry but complied.

Albert Wesker didn't know what love is, he had no parental figures to teach him how to love. Although he felt it, he called it “fascination to the utmost degree.” Which your mother hated, she thought that it sounded demeaning and she’d told him many times that it sounded like he’s telling her child that he was a test subject. Though, you never had a problem with it. It was like a jumbled way of him telling you that he loved you. 

Every family member has their secrets. You always suspected that uncle Wesker’s glasses had something to do with his. He never took off the black shades even at night, when you were younger, maybe seven or eight, you tried to tackle him and take them off. Albert dodged last second, causing an accident like you needing to get stitches that one time; you had gone to jump from the steps in front of your house and onto your uncle when he had stepped away at the last second, leaving you to land on a sharp stone. Your mother was furious but you were happy that you got a gnarly scar on your eyebrow.  
Albert had waited till the next time he saw you to apologize, your mother had let her wrath rain down on her brother unbeknownst to you. He had explained to her it was only reflex and he never meant to intentionally hurt his nephew. However, your mother still threatened him, which infuriated Albert. His cold anger had frozen the room as he listened silently to his sister-by-lab growl warnings at him and chewed him out over and over.

After the argument, Albert had let you crawl over him. You remember him smelling faintly of leather, and deodorant; it was a cozy scent and you remember falling asleep to him telling stories multiple times. He did still keep you away from the glasses, gently took your hands off of them when you grabbed or just shook you off gently when you kept at it. You slowly learned that some secrets are left secrets for a reason.

Your mother never let you go to Umbrella with Wesker when he had invited you, always had reacted to it with anger and exasperation. You had never understood why. When you asked her she gave you a chilly look with her green eyes, you never asked about it again. It was a pharmaceutical company, not some kind of testing facility. 

The very first time you had heard uncle Wesker be angry was on your tenth birthday, he had gotten an important call and stepped out to take it. The rest of your family, your father’s side, were too busy talking to really notice you slip away to listen. He was speaking urgently of something that started with a U, his usual pleasant semi-deep voice was gritty as he hissed into the mic. You had expected the call to go on for longer, but Albert unexpectedly hung up and spun around before you could hide. Uncle Wesker’s expression switched from shock to almost pure rage in just a few seconds. His mouth turned up in a grimace and you could almost feel his eyes pierce into you like knives touching your skin. You turned and ran to your mother, Albert followed closely behind, his rage billowed off him in invisible clouds. Your mother immediately saw what was happening and stood up, family members watched as Albert raised his voice at you for the very first time. Your mother moved in between the two of you as you had cried. Your mother was too furious for words, just letting her silence talk for itself. Finally, uncle Wesker got the memo and left, slamming the door viciously behind him.

You waited an impatient week to call him. Your mother was standing nearby to monitor what was happening. He didn’t answer immediately, almost like he was contemplating on answering; it wasn’t a great feeling, it had made you feel like you fucked up more than you meant to. On the fifth ring, he picked up, sounding weary. You held back tears as you profusely apologized to him for eavesdropping and begged for his forgiveness, your mother shook her head at this, Albert eventually sighed and hung up.

Feeling broken, you set the phone back up on its base and headed to your room. Your favorite person in the world hadn’t forgiven you for a mistake and at that age, it felt like the end of the world. Not even your mother could console your hurting, no matter how many hugs and reassuring words she gave.   
Late into the night, you woke up to hear your mother’s raised voice on the phone, saying that you didn't know any better and explaining how depressed you were, even though she hadn’t ever liked him, she told him that you loved him more than any father figure and ignoring you would break you.

You scurried back to your room as she hung up. You hugged one of your pillows, teary eyed once again. You couldn’t get his anger out of your head, you understood you did something wrong by listening to his conversation but you had never anticipated the rage that came with it. You had just managed to fall asleep when you heard the front door open, followed by heavy boots hitting the linoleum. The sound echoed throughout your mind, waking up your half-asleep mind like someone had flipped a light switch.   
Your mother was up first, inevitably sensing something was amiss in her household. She made eye contact with you as she passed your door, shotgun in hand. Almost immediately, you heard her audibly say something and sigh angrily. You heard the muffled voices of the mystery person and your mother. Eventually, you heard her agree to something.

Suddenly, uncle Wesker’s silhouette blocked the hallway light into your room and you could swear that you saw two faint glowing red orbs behind those shades of his. Your uncle stepped inside of your room, turning on your light, literally blinding you for a second. He looked disheveled and you asked if he was okay, forgetting you had just gotten yelled at by him the day before. He let a small smile crack through his stone-faced mask and knelt down on one knee. You hugged him, uncle Wesker took a few moments before hugging you back. He never got hugs from anybody but you, so that moment had been special for him, though he would never tell anybody.

Your mother told you once that Uncle Wesker once had a wife and a son. When his son was only three, his wife left him an unknown reason, your father’s side of the family had started the rumor that she was cheating on him; you suspected it was only to bug your uncle. Though, it never visibly did.  
You had thought it was sad, uncle Wesker never deserved the hurt he had been through. You didn’t realize until after he was gone that he thought of you as his own. This was proven when you turned seventeen. A few months in, you started to get aggressive. Your entire personality changed, you were angry and emotionally unstable. Your mother had absolutely no idea what to do, you would go from fine to destroying dishes and furniture in under minutes. You would get splitting migraines and extreme muscle cramps. The final straw for your mother was right before you almost went absolutely batshit crazy, you were much taller than her now, almost 6ft which was both unnatural for both sides of your family. Before you could lose control, your eyes felt like they exploded in your skull and you fell to the ground in pain. The pain was so great that you passed out.


	2. Chapter Two

When you woke up, your mother was on the phone. You felt like you had been boiling in a pot of water for what felt like years. Her voice shook your head like an earthquake, making you grip it with your hands in an attempt to calm down whatever was causing this. Seconds later you let out a groan and lost consciousness.

You awoke again when the front door was shut gently. Your migraine had numbed off, but most of the pain was still there, you were sweating profusely, the cushions beneath you were drenched. You could make out urgent whispers and boots on the linoleum flooring. You opened your eyes when the footfalls stopped. You blinked in confusion as you made out the form of uncle Wesker standing over you from the back of the couch. Unexpectedly, a glint of crimson appeared from behind his glasses before he moved so quickly you could barely keep track of him with your eyes, and just as quickly a needle was thrust into your arm. You watched as the red liquid slowly injected itself in your arm. In seconds, your arm spasmed and soon it was rising up to your chest and in your heart. A scream fought to rip from your throat, tears poured from your eyes as you stared at the ceiling, back arching as another scream exited your body. Darkness was starting to dot your vision and tear it apart.

Uncle Wesker’s strange red eyes through his glasses were the last thing you saw before you succumbed to the darkness.

You had woken with a start, sitting up in your bed. Your breathing was shaky as you looked down on your crinkled sheets as you thought to yourself that it was only a dream.

“Sleep well?” Your body froze and your blood turned to ice as you looked up to see uncle Wesker leaning on your doorframe, usual black sunglasses on and arms crossed as he watched you.

You replied with the answer of telling your dream but all he did was laugh, “That was no dream.” Leaving you with a terrified question filled look at your uncle. He seemed to be waiting for your questions, you thought you saw a ghost of a frown on your uncle’s face. In silence, you two stared at each other before you whispered to yourself, wondering what you were if not human. Albert didn’t reply, it was if he was asking you the same question. You then asked what he had put into you when he had used the syringe. He shook his head as if he couldn’t answer that question. You asked what was going to happen to you.

“You’ll come with me.” His voice came slowly from his mouth, it sounded bland but you knew better than to believe the emotionless tone and looked beyond that and there was hesitation in the man’s voice.

Before you could answer, your mother looked around the corner and entered your room, eyes flooded with relief. She sat at the edge of your bed and explained that you would be going to live with your uncle to help understand the sudden illness you had caught. He was a scientist and scientists always had the answer, she had said with a deathly look at uncle Wesker, her green eyes like daggers. It was obvious to you that she was skipping over some things as she explained the rest, clenching her teeth for a moment before skipping. Wanting to know the truth made you uneasy, prickles of cold ice tapped your spine as she went on, you stole a glance at uncle Wesker, who was still straight-faced and obviously annoyed.

At last, she leaned forward and gave you a kiss on your cheek and told you everything was going to be okay. She seemed uneasy though, contradicting what her words were. Green eyes were glazed with worry and exhaustion. She probably had to stay awake and watch over you, despite uncle Wesker being there to watch you. You smiled to show you were okay, she had returned it.

“If you two are done, I’d like to take my nephew now.”

Your mother shot a look of pure poison at her brother, she hissed something along the lines of that he needed to watch himself. Wesker huffed a sigh and crossed his arms. You quietly told your mother to calm down, giving her a hug. She kept her mouth shut in a tight line as you asked your uncle what you needed. He answered, everything that you needed on a daily basis. Which included a toothbrush, multiple changes of clothes, shoes, etcetera. He mentioned stiffly to your mother that he would buy everything else. She watched him with angry eyes and you wondered briefly what she was thinking and why she was so furious.

When you’d gotten your stuff, your uncle stood by the door as you said goodbye to your mother, who had started crying. She hugged you for no end, holding you so tight you thought your ribs were going to snap under the pressure. She whispered to stay safe and that her home was always open to you, no matter what you did or what trouble you were in. Just her saying that made you uneasy. What kind of things were your mother expecting to happen?

She finally let go and held you by the shoulders to look up at you, her face was layered with worry and pure sadness. Her eyebrows were furrowed as she looked deeply into your gaze, she wanted to say something else, that was obvious. All she did was nod, clenched her hands around your shoulders, and smiled. And you felt your heart crack.

As you stepped out of your house, you felt fear and excitement. You watched your uncle, who left after your mother had started hugging you, his silhouette was in the car make a call. You made your way down the concrete path, your shoes making dull thunks as you stepped on pebbles. You lived here your entire life up to this point, the usual walk that took twenty seconds felt like twenty minutes to make the distance. Finally, you reached the car, with a hand on the handle, you took one last look at your home. Its peeling gray paint was homey still, the cracked concrete showed how many years of your playing and walking had worn it down, lights were all on in every room but yours. You were sure your mother was watching you through it, a part of you wanted to turn back and crawl into your cozy bed; but did you have a choice? One look at uncle Wesker in the car, tapping his impatient fingers on the steering wheel and you knew that there was no turning back.  
You opened the door and sat down. The seats were fake leather, and you noticed almost immediately that it was an undercover cop car and your soul dropped out of your body. You stiffened up, was your uncle taking you to jail? Is that why your mother said all that stuff about you being able to come back if you're in trouble? Panic seized your body silently and you shot a look at uncle Wesker as he started up the vehicle.

Without looking back, he reassured you, “We aren’t going to the police station,” His voice was neutral again, “however, we do need to talk.”

You asked about what you were going to talk about.

“Not here.” There was a warning in his voice.

You two drove on the quiet Raccoon City roads until you reached Umbrella Corporation's giant home building. You felt your jaw clench tightly as your uncle pulled up to a parking space. Soon, you were stepping into the pharmaceuticals corporation. Not a single person stole a look at your uncle. In fact, you had noticed uncle Wesker held himself higher as he walked and you briefly wondered if he was someone completely different than who you knew as a child. He stepped into an elevator and motioned for you to follow. You started to speak again, but he shook his head and pushed the basement button and the two of you started your descent under the labs. It took much longer than you expected.  
When you got down into the so-called basement, you discovered a whole other world. It was a massive space, bridges that went across giant holes in the ground, and to your horror, people and creatures being tested on.

Uncle Wesker led you to a lone lab, panels were as white as the floor. He turned, “My nephew, it’s time you learned the truth about me.” You gulped and watched in silence as he sighed, “And I guess, about you too.”

Your uncle went into a whole speech about his and your mother’s past. Explaining that the two were the only ones to survive so far, how your mother never showed symptoms of the superhuman abilities, how he had been doing research on a Tyrant and injected himself with the virus, but his superhuman immune system had been able to merge with the supercell dna. At last, he reached up and slowly took off his dark glasses; revealing two crimson and orange eyes with slits as pupils. It may have been the sheer shock of it or the amount of information you had been contaiming but bile rose in your throat at the sight of uncle Wesker’s eyes, you turned away as you heaved up what you had for dinner. Gasps were all that you made for a couple seconds before you were just dry heaving.

“Now look what you’ve done.” Albert sighed. You looked at him with helpless eyes as he clenched his jaw for a moment, “I shouldn’t have given you the Progenitor Virus when you had an empty stomach.”

You asked him what that was.

“The Progenitor, well…” He shrugs, “I don’t think we’re ready to talk about that just yet, little nephew.” Wesker motioned for you to leave the room with him, “What’s important is that now we are the same, that is if the Virus doesn’t kill you. I know it sounds vulgar-” He added as you stared at him in horror, “however, we have reason to believe you may be able to survive this with minimal effects.” Then he went on to tell you all about what you might've been feeling in time.

Two weeks later, you were recovering from the illness the Progenitor Virus had given you. Throwing up, violence, and flatlining were your favorite things to do recently, along with hissing and screaming in pain were in your vocabulary. You were moved to a hospital bed shortly after your talk with your uncle and you’d been in and out every few hours.  
You had lost consciousness for three days before you’d awoken to uncle Wesker sitting at your bedside, listening to a walkie talkie drone about police wearabouts. You remembered you had snarled at him, teeth bared like weapons against your family member. He had looked fairly amused and said something that sounded foreign before you had passed out again.

Now, you were laying in the soft bed. Your eyes drifted up at the ceiling, travelling along its white and black speckled ceiling as you gained back your sanity. Your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth, you briefly wondered if they had been giving you water, or food… your stomach shrieked in hunger. You missed your mother, you also wondered if she knew you were almost dead, you wondered how she would react to your uncle. Did she know about all of this? You secretly wished your mother had told you sooner, you know, instead of learning by being stabbed and seeing uncle Wesker’s crimson red eyes.

Tearing your thoughts to shreds, the room door opened and your uncle stepped in. Dressed surprisingly in his S.T.A.R.S uniform. He didn’t seem to notice you awake and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes with his hand and sighing, “I’m starting to think he won’t ever get better.” uncle Wesker spoke quietly.

You turned your head to look at him and he stiffened, meeting your eyes with his ones. You saw him relax visibly and he let another small smile crack through his stone mask. You couldn’t exchange it with one of your own smiles, though.

“I bet you feel different,” uncle Wesker’s voice croaked out of him like an old floorboard. He seemed to be searching your face for something, “Your eyes haven’t fully transformed yet.”

You stayed quiet for a few seconds, unsure of what to say to the older man. You felt angry deep down inside, he was the reason you were so sick. You asked him why he did it to you.

“Your mother passed down the Progenitor to you through birth,” uncle Wesker stated matter-of-factly, “your recent anger was a product of it, though it wouldn’t have killed you, it sure as hell would’ve made you homicidal and possibly kill your mother. I set out to change that, despite my dislike for her, by injecting you with a pure form of the Virus. The reason I’m guessing you didn’t die is because over your short seventeen years of life you managed to build a strong resistance to the serum.”

You asked if that’s what your mother would of wanted.

“No. She took some convincing to let me inject you with it.” He answered simply.

You asked what was going to happen to you after this point.

“How’re you feeling?” your uncle swiftly changed the subject with another question.

You didn’t know how to reply, you still felt ill but beneath it all you felt like you could run a thousand miles and fight a million enemies. With a single movement you felt an unrelenting power surge under your muscles and it burned like fire. You answered with that, your voice low.

That seemed to please him, “That’s good. That means that when I get back, we can start training.” your uncle nodded solemnly, “Now get some rest, my nephew.”

Uncle Wesker stood up, you stared in newfound wonder at him. You were trying to process the fact that all the years you had known him, he had these superhuman abilities that were unmatched to anybody you ever knew. Now, things were starting to click together like a puzzle. How uncle Wesker could never take off his glasses when he was around you, or how he had dodged so swiftly that day you got your scar, or how he was so careful around you when he was visiting you. He could’ve accidentally hurt you if he wasn’t watching his strength. You could barely comprehend that this man, who was family to you, could be so different. Guess not so different now. You thought with another flex of your muscles to feel them heat up.  
Your uncle stopped at the door to put his glasses back over his red eyes. He waved over his shoulder as he shut the door behind him. It left you alone in your thoughts, only the beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound that lulled you to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE GONNA ACT LIKE HE INJECTED HIMSELF WITH THE VIRUS BEFORE RE1 KDJDKWLFJQWR I JUST REALIZED I FUCKED UP WITH THAT PIECE OF LORE BYE 
> 
> anyway, I have a doctor's appointment in like 2 hours and I just know my mother is gonna want to tell the doctor everything like girl please I'll make you wait in the lobby. jdcndjkfe


	3. Chapter Three

You awoke 48 hours later to a scream. Your eyes shot open and you sat up, heart monitor beeping furiously to match your sudden fear, head turned to the door, you watched outside the small rectangular window as nurses and doctors alike wheeled patients down to emergency exits. You heard gunshots and you swept your eyes across the crowds, searching for your uncle to see if it was his gun.   
Ice pooled into your veins as someone’s hand slapped against it, smearing blood on the wired glass. The lights flickered, making an electrical scream throughout the building. Fight or flight kicked in as you ripped out your IV and tore off your heart monitors, making the screen show straight lines. You fumbled with the doorknob for a second, your hands shaky. It opened and you stumbled out, immediately getting pushed around by fleeing people. You slammed against the wall and allowed yourself to be pushed down to the exit.   
Once in the stairwell, you felt the building shake and someone scream about the elevator falling. The crowd seemed to push harder against you, you felt someone’s hot breath on your neck as you went down. When you reached the door, people were backing into the crowd, screaming something, but inevitably was pushed outside. Immediately, you were met with blood and gore; shots were being fired and people were being dragged down by other people… no… these people were rotting, pieces of their skin were peeling from their bodies, teeth bared and loud growls erupted from their disgusting faces. You watched in horror as they grabbed people from the crowds and bit into them like it was nothing, the people in question were shrieking in pain. Mob mentality took over, one person started to run and the rest followed.   
Someone shoved you into the side of a dumpster, you stumbled and because you were so weak still, you fell. You were about to be trampled, feet hitting the pavement. The mob split as more undead attacked. A few noticed you, with a snarl they sprung. 

Instinct took over and you held out an arm to block their fall. One’s neck fell perfectly on it, another was holding onto your arm in an attempt to break your defense. Your strength was fading quickly, adrenaline pumping in your veins like a wildfire, their undead eyes met yours and bile rose in your throat; you broke the gaze and took a quick look around at the burning city and felt angry. The bile in your throat burned as you used the last of your strength to push them off of you. They fell backwards. You stood up as quickly as you could in your condition, which wasn't fast, and suddenly you felt like boiling water had replaced your spinal fluid, it gave you the feeling like you could run a thousand miles and swim an entire ocean full of creatures. As one of the undead got up, you met it halfway, grabbing its skull in your hands and squeezing, you heard the sickening crunch of the bones splitting as the creature screamed and howled in your hands as you gritted your teeth in fury, at last, it stopped moving. The other was up now, charging at you. You used a leg to trip it and used the other to stomp its skull in. 

The boiling fluid disappeared and the strength dwindled. You panted as you leaned against a wall to get to the main road. The only thing you thought about was getting home to your mother. You needed to see if she was okay. People were rioting and running and fighting against the unstoppable undead. You were tunnel-visioned as you walked the miles to get home. You still have no idea how you managed to not die with all that was happening. You stumbled through alleys listening to dogs bark and screams. You don’t know how, but you managed to find your way back home.   
As soon as you stepped on the concrete, a hand landed on your shoulder, you spun around, ready to fight. However, you came face to face with your uncle. He looked exhausted, blond hair which was usually slicked back neatly was messy and his glasses had a crack in them, obviously he’s had a worse night than you. 

“I thought I’d find you here.” He talked low, “We need to leave.” 

You looked at your house, asking to see your mother. 

Uncle Wesker shook his head, his gaze not leaving the door, “I don’t think she wants to see you, my nephew.”

You asked why.

He hesitated, obviously reaching in his mind for an answer, “I don’t think she wants to see you in this state.”

You looked at your home again, you were itching to at least see her. Tell her that you’re all right for the most part. You wondered if you could make it to the steps of your home, however, your uncle was watching and something told you that he would drag you back rather than let you. Instead, you asked where you were going to go next. 

“We leave the city.” Wesker steered you away from the building.

You asked about his squad at the Raccoon City police squad and he stiffened, you saw a sliver of his red eyes stare at you through his cracked glasses, he didn’t answer and you felt uneasy as you met his gaze. Finally, he sighed. But said nothing else as he led you to a car. Getting in, you watched as you once again drive away from your childhood home. You rested your head against the cold glass as you drove by the flames and escaped the city.  
Past Raccoon City, there was desert. You watched the moon as it floated in the sky, it followed your car like a guardian. Cacti stood out in the desert like sprigs and tufts of fur next to sagebrush and tumbleweeds, which occasionally drifted across the road. Uncle Wesker drove until the mountains were behind them before stopping along the edge of the road, he scrolled through a small police radio until he found the station he wanted, “This is Wesker, ready for take off. Over.”

Take off? You watched with wide eyes as your uncle got a signal back in his radio and then took the headset off. Massaging his jaw and taking the time to re-slick his blond hair and take off his glasses to assess the damage on his glasses, his red irises combed over the broken pieces and scratches. He mumbled something before putting them back on. Uncle Wesker noticed you and he gave you a reassuring nod before taking out his gun, the model was a Samurai Edge, and polishing it, taking the clip out of it and the already loaded bullet. It flew your direction, quick as the wind, you caught it. Your uncle said nothing, just paused to nod again before going back. 

You asked if he had used it tonight, you felt like you already knew the answer. The clip only had three bullets, a sure-tell sign it had been.

“I did.” He answered shortly.

You looked out the window again at the desert that held nothing but death. You wondered if he didn’t want to talk about it.

Uncle Wesker immediately counteracted your thought process, “I had to kill Tyrants. You should be the first to know that I was a double agent for S.T.A.R.S.”

You whipped your neck so fast to stare at him that you were sure you gave yourself whiplash.

“We, my nephew, are going to make this world great.” Uncle Wesker finished his cleaning and reloaded his pistol.

You said nothing, trying to process what was happening. Tyrants? Double-agents? Making the world great? Your head was spinning with new information, making you nauseous. Your uncle got out of the car to greet the oncoming helicopter, motioning you to follow. In seconds you felt the power of the ‘copter blades and you struggled to keep your balance as the wind pushed against you. Your uncle, however, had no problem staying in place as the helicopter landed on the old highway. In fact, he looked rather impatient.   
You both boarded the machine and made your way to the secret hideout. If that’s what you would call it anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just received notice that my academy doesn't start until the 30th of January, so that means more time for me to finish the AU. I'd like to think I'm halfway done with this but I know myself better than that, I may edit and change it all when I think I'm done and know more lore, or I might switch the perspective a little bit. I'm getting tired of writing 'you' all the time lmao


	4. Chapter Four

Two months later, you stood off against your uncle; training session. He was maybe five feet away from you but you couldn’t be sure, his eyes were concealed by his shades, giving away nothing about how he was feeling. You were careful not to trip over your own feet as you circled, remembering what uncle Wesker had taught you weeks prior:

“Don’t turn your back to the enemy or you make matters worse for yourself.” He had told you with a low voice after he had knocked you to the ground for doing exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time, “ Never turn to your side, keep them in front of you; an attack from the side will knock you off balance always. Watch their face and body language, match it as if it were your own.”

You went to get up.

Quick as the wind, uncle Wesker knocked you down again, pinning you down with a boot in between your shoulder blades, “And always be faster than your opponent.”

You thought about this now as you two circled each other. Even with practice, you weren't as nimble as your family member, Albert had always found a way to end the fight by speed or pure force. You still hadn’t gotten used to the feeling of cold concrete.   
Your new boots clopped against the floor like horse hooves, it made you feel clumsy and loud and you disliked them to the fullest extent. They were loud now, as you stalked. You wished you could tell what your uncle was thinking by just his eyes like he could with you, it didn't help that his body language was just as hidden. It was like trying to read a rock.  
You watched his legs in hope they would give something away. Seeing nothing, you moved your eyes back to his shades, but that was enough time for him to lunge. 

You managed to dodge in time but Albert was fast, going to trip you with an outstretched leg. You avoided it narrowly and went on the offensive, flashing out a fist that was caught by a gloved hand. Letting out a growl of frustration, you aimed another at him, but this time turned it at the last second so it collided with his bottom jaw near his chin. Spitting, you uncle stumbled back to recover and taking the chance, you went in for the theoretical kill. You managed to get behind him, getting ready to knock out his legs from under him with a quick jab.   
Suddenly, your uncle twisted around, time seemed to slow down as he met your eyes through his glasses. You didn’t have time to even read them before an aimed kick collided with your bottom jaw. Revenge, it seemed, was sweet for your uncle as you went flying and hit the floor, knocking the wind out of you. You lay there gasping for air as he stood over you.

“Yield?” It was a question this time, not an order. He thought you could go on for longer, but the fight was lost. Jaw aching, you nodded slowly and took your uncle’s hand as he offered to help you up, “You did better this time. Managed to land something for once.”

You rolled your eyes, rubbing your sore bones, you mumbled about that being too extra. 

Amusement coated your uncle’s voice, “Not my fault you didn’t dodge.” 

Exhaling a laugh through your nose, you didn’t answer. 

“Ready to try again?” He asked. 

In all honesty, you didn’t want to fight again. Not after the kick to your jaw, which looked like it was going to leave a bruise. For once, you were thankful you had superhuman abilities; that meant healing was increased. You shook your head, stretching your body as you turned to get something from the kitchen.  
Some sort of intuition made you turn back around, just in time to see your uncle throwing a well aimed punch at your stomach. Instinct took over and you dodged and managed to land the move you tried out earlier, knocking uncle Wesker off balance. But only for a second, he was back on his feet and ready to face you once again. Narrowing your eyes, you attacked him head on, unprepared for the full force behind your blows; each stronger than you had ever achieved in the past. At the time, you were just furious that your uncle had attacked with absolutely no warning, it wasn't until after the fact that you had turned your back to the enemy, uncle Wesker was only teaching you a lesson.  
Your anger heated your body, it was the unbearable ferocity that drove you to cause as much harm as possible. Like an animal, you snarled, spittle flying as you bared your teeth. At some point, your punches turned into wide-hand slaps and scratches; you were quickly losing control, letting the creature inside take over. Albert Wesker allowed this, dodging nimbly, but you were gaining speed dangerously fast.

Expectedly, your hand collided with the side of his face. You felt your nails dig into his skin and the glasses shot off his face and clattered loudly on the ground, sliding with the force. Fear sparked under your skin, but the monster wouldn’t let go of it’s hold on you. You watched as your uncle felt where you had afflicted his skin, blood had begun to rise to the surface and drip down. You felt a guttural growl rise in your throat that was quickly quelled by the sight of your uncle’s red eyes lighting up, quite literally, and you had barely time to blink when Albert used a takedown move on you, slamming you to the ground with so much force you thought your spine might shatter. The monster in you snarled defiantly and a hand was tightening around your throat, when you opened your eyes you were faced with gazing into your uncle’s dangerous gaze.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realized he was also having trouble controlling the creature inside of him, “Don’t you ever fucking do that again.” He warned, voice colder than the deepest depths of the arctic ocean.

Your vision blurred and you dimly became aware that he was tightening his grip. Gritting your teeth, you latched onto his wrist with a hand. You met his gaze and squeezed, feeling bones grind against each other like stones pressed together in a rockslide. When that didn’t work, you threw your body weight against him, catching him off guard. You gasped for air as his hand left your neck, all anger gone from you, the beast retreating for the time being. For a minute, you two stood feet apart, not leaving each other’s angry gaze. 

You broke it first, bending down to pick up his fallen glasses and shoving it in his direction, “Here’s your fucking shades, uncle.” Venom dripped off your words.

His lips rose in a sneer as he put them back on, “Next time watch yourself.” 

“Likewise.” 

What had happened to your uncle, you didn’t know. He was usually calm, collected, and alright to hang around. But lately it’s been fighting and quiet tension. You missed the old uncle Wesker.   
You wandered into your makeshift room, you caught yourself in the mirror, your own red eyes were getting more visible and your hair was messy from the fight. You got closer, examining the way you looked, you longed for the look you had before. You never asked to be injected with… whatever that liquid was! You snarled to yourself, hitting a box off the desk holding it, it slammed against the metal wall and echoed around your room like a lost scream in a cave. 

What would your mother think? Asked the sly voice in your head. How would she react to you becoming the thing she hated?

She would never find out. That was a fact. You reminded yourself with a pang of grief. Raccoon City had been nuked the same night you and uncle Wesker escaped on the helicopter. You remembered watching the plane soar past, dropping the atom bomb, and the sickening turbulence that came after. You were too in shock to cry then, but as soon as you had gotten situated in your room you had cried as if your life depended on it. Your uncle had let you grieve for a week, coming in every so often to check on you and bring you food, it seemed like he cared then. Maybe you were too stressful for him now? The thought made you clench your teeth. 

A knock at the door made you jump. Before you could turn, the door opened and revealed your uncle. His arms were crossed, glasses back on his face and hair fixed. The wound you gave him was already starting to heal, the blood washed away.

“Come to choke me out again?” The words exited your mouth before you could stop it. It dripped with wariness and past anger. 

He shook his head, “I believe we owe each other an apology.” 

You stayed quiet, not wanting to say sorry for something that wasn’t your fault. You felt a scowl etch on your face. 

Uncle Wesker suppressed a sigh, “If you would rather a one-sided apology, I believe I can manage that. It’s selfish for you not to realize your part in this ordeal, I might add.” His voice grew slow, as if he was choosing his words carefully, “I may not be the exact parent figure a teenager needs, I do not understand the needs of a child-”

“I am not a child!” You hissed.

“However, I am trying.” He acted like you didn’t say a word, “Especially two humans injected with the Virus; it has never been tested so fights between the injected could be more common. It may also be an alpha male situation,” Your uncle droned on, “Our DNA is quite similar, it could be we are both competing for leadership. That is something I’d like to avoid. I’d prefer us to train and curb our instincts to properly fight tooth and nail.” He looked at you expectantly.

You gazed at him with unyielding eyes, “Is that your way of apologizing?” A laugh escaped you quickly, “How do you think my mother would’ve reacted to what you just pulled? Choked her kid? You know what she would do?” You asked, an edge to your voice, “She would never allow you to see me again.”

“Your mother is dead, Nicholas.” Albert’s voice turned icy cold, it froze the room. He was holding back his temper, jaw clenched, “She isn’t here to save you from the virus, she is a failure at the W-Project, she should’ve died and you shouldn’t exist. Her genes misfired and entered her reproductive organs, making her nearly infertile. You were a so-called miracle with half the Virus genes instead of human DNA, I could’ve and should’ve killed you the moment I held you in that hospital room, but the truth is I doted on you so much because I saw you in myself. Yet my son means nothing to me and yet I take care of you like my own. Think for a single second how lucky you are to have someone that saved your life like I did. Face the truth, my nephew, because nobody can face it for you but yourself.” He spat before slamming the door. Leaving you in the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the main characters name do be nicholas doe

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Sol for inspiring me to write this tragedy of an AU, when I leave for 5 months it'll be torture not to report literally everything to you. I mean I probably won't have the energy to lmfao, sis I'm going to be running two miles a day. 
> 
> Thanks everyone else for taking the time to read the first chapter, I can assure you it only gets worse from here. I know next to nothing about the plot, I have played the games and watched a few plot explanations etc so that I can partially understand this spiderweb but because I'm not all knowing, it won't be entirely accurate like I could want it to be :( pls don't bully this is literally the first AU I've ever done. I would like it to be a fic but it's honestly too fast paced for that and in little to no detail because I'm rushing the fuck out of it. I am in fact leaving for an academy soon, no electronics allowed, I leave on the 30th of January and that's like what? 40-50 days away? I mean I may finish it before then but on god it feels like I'm rushing the fuck out of it.


End file.
